More Often Than Not
by raiko.EXE
Summary: "Sex," he repeated through a mouthful of cornflakes. "Cause Flint reckons you and Lucian are having it." — Sinnoh League Family


I don't know what in the world I was thinking when I came up with this. I guess after writing a bunch of romance fics, I felt like a change of pace? The dynamics of the Elite Four have always interested me, and due to the variety in ages, the Sinnoh gang has fallen victim to my writing. Contains Lucian/Cynthia and slight one-sided Flint/Cynthia for plot purposes. Anyway, I hope this proves effective in amusing you.

* * *

**More Often Than Not**

From the time when her hand hit the alarm clock in the morning to the time her head hit her pillow in the evening, Champion Cynthia was on a schedule. Well, _supposed_ to be on a schedule, since the number of challengers varied from day to day. On occasion there might be a handful, other times one or two, but the majority of the time not a soul. Not that the she minded, however. The leisure time was nice; it made for wiggle room in what would be a rigid calendar had the influx of trainers been heavy. It also gave her as well as the members of the Elite Four the time to do what they pleased, which was more than appreciated in her mind.

After her daily beauty regimen, which commenced as soon as she was up and out of bed, Cynthia would make her way over to her desk, slip on her black coat, which would always be resting neatly on the chair, and would proceed to check the Victory Road surveillance system which was linked to her laptop.

And today, it appeared that the only trainer wandering through the gloomy expanse of the caves was more than a day's journey away.

Looks like it was another day off.

The blonde smiled, flipping the laptop closed before leaving the premises of her room. Her heels clacked down the hallway towards the direction of the kitchen, since she needed her morning cup of coffee to function properly. On her way, she recognized a purple head of hair heading in the opposite direction, probably headed back to his own quarters.

"Good morning, Lucian," the Sinnoh champion greeted in order to catch the bookworm's attention. Not once had she seen the male without a book in his hand.

The psychic-type user looked up from the novel he had been absorbed with, adjusting his glasses. "Good morning, Cynthia," he replied heartily, looking happy to see her. "Shall we expect any challengers today?"

"No," she replied sheepishly. The look on his face suggested that he had expected that answer. "But perhaps tomorrow. There's a trainer and their Infernape are traveling through, but they're still a ways away."

"If they can make it past the rest of the Elite Four, that is," Lucian smirked. The champion cracked a smile, taking in his cool yet confident demeanor. "You should know by now that those three hardly let me have my fun."

"Ah, that's right," she laughed airily, bringing a hand close to her lips in thought. "Though you're certainly no pushover either. Roughly what percentage of my potential victims have you eliminated again?"

"About eighty percent," he replied proudly. To anyone else, he would have sounded arrogant, but Cynthia knew him better than that. "But that aside, do you have any plans today?"

The blonde quirked a brow at his sudden change of topic. "None so far," she said truthfully. "Why do you ask?"

"Well if you're free, perhaps I could take you out to dinner?" Lucian suggested hopefully, earning him a muted eagerness in the form of her musing hum of faux contemplation. She had always tried to keep him guessing whenever he asked her out, but her answer was almost always the same. "It's been a while since I've taken you out on a proper date."

"I know," she sighed with a slightly disappointed note to her voice. With such a tight-knit group living under one ornate roof, it was hard to keep anything under wraps, a relationship especially. Going public was hardly an option, considering all of the potential drama it could cause within the league. This mainly centered around the idea that romance tended to be an activity meant for two when the five of them were supposed to be a family. They didn't want to sever the bonds they had developed over the years with their comrades, their friends, and so they had kept their affair a secret.

"That idea sounds lovely though," Cynthia said with genuine approval, trying to eliminate the complicated ideas from her mind. "What time?"

Lucian was doing all he could to stop himself from beaming. "Seven-o'clock. I'll have Alakazam teleport us." He informed her, taking a quick survey of the area. The blonde quirked a brow, wondering what he was planning until she felt the space between them suddenly decrease in size. She would have opened her mouth to protest, seeing as they were still in plain sight of whoever decided to walk out of their room, she didn't. That would have made extra noise, after all. Instead, she allowed his fingers ghost over the curve of her hips and gazed into his eyes as his face approached her own. Closer, closer…

"Outta the way, I gotta piss!"

The sudden indecent exclamation followed by the bang of a door against the wall caused the two to jump back in reflex, both looking around wildly for the cause of their disruption. Lucian's irritated look dissolved into one of complete disbelief when he'd finally distinguished the abnormality.

An incredibly distraught Flint brushed forcefully past the two with blinding speed towards the bathroom, still clad in his patterned Chimchar pajamas. The duo could only blink in mindless observance as the redhead sprinted to the end of the hallway, making a sharp right before another slam was heard, signaling that he'd reached the lavatory.

"Well that's certainly nothing new," Cynthia muttered, exhaling in disappointment. (The matter of being interrupted, of course, not Flint. Well, at least to her knowledge.) She turned back to the equally disappointed male. "But tonight it is then," she tried, hoping to brighten his spirits.

"Ah, right," Lucian let out, suddenly regaining his cheery mood. He flipped back to the page he had left off on in hopes of masking any suspicious activity. "Wear something tight," he whispered from behind the shield of his novel, giving her one last, endearing smile before he retreated to his room. Cynthia's eyes trailed him, crooked grin on her face and heart beating just a bit faster.

* * *

Upon entering the kitchen, Cynthia was pleased to find that the sweet aroma of coffee had already wafted through the room. _'Probably Lucian's doing,'_ she thought bemusedly, having remembered that he was a coffee drinker as well. And since he had apparently woken up earlier than her today, he had probably taken the liberty to make the coffee that morning.

"Morning!" a cheery voice chimed from the breakfast table. The champion glanced over to find Aaron, bed head still in place as he proceeded to pour more milk into his bowl of cereal. He also appeared to have the paper. Since when did kids actually pay attention to the news these days?

"Good morning, Aaron," she replied, giving the younger boy a kind smile before retrieving a mug from one of the steel cabinets. The league had gone for a cold, metal theme; It made for a more intimidating, elitist look.

One cup of hazelnut blend and two sugar cubes later, she took a spot across the bug-type trainer and took a sip of vitality from her coffee mug. "What are you reading?"

"The comics," he replied. She should have known. The blonde kept an eye on him, observing as he munched on his cornflakes. Perhaps it was because of his age, but Cynthia had always had a soft spot towards the boy. He had youthful innocence, which the league had previously lacked. She had come to realize that having a younger member was almost like having a younger sibling. If Aaron ever wanted to go somewhere, she always found herself bombarding him with questions, mostly the usual who, what, where, when, why, as she had often done with her own sister. The green-haired boy in question sometimes found this annoying, but that in turn just made him seem all the more like a younger brother.

She also realized that it was unbearably hard to refrain from hugging the life out of him sometimes, now being one of those cases. The kid was damn cute with his doe eyes on the comics section, absentmindedly letting drops of milk fall from his spoon onto the paper.

They sat there in comfortable silence, Aaron mainly oblivious to her presence as he was too absorbed in the newsprint illustrations, but she didn't mind. Just knowing he was well and in her sight was enough.

He glanced at her for a split second, and she looked away, believing to have been caught staring. Unexpectedly, however, the boy's eyes lit up in what appeared to be an epiphany.

"Cynthia?" he began, dipping his spoon back into the bowl and setting his comics aside for a moment.

She directed her attention back to him, wondering what he could possibly inquire about. "Yes?"

"What's sex?"

The blonde suddenly choked on her coffee, sputtering about as the liquid attempted to pervade her lungs. Aaron's eyes widened in concern as he watched his senior grip the table for dear life, appearing to be hacking her lungs out. "Cynthia! Are you okay?!"

"I-I'm…Fine," she managed after having a good coughing fit. The all-too-gullible boy bought it, sinking back into his chair in relief. "Now run that by me again?" Cynthia said, wondering if she had heard right.

Aaron continued to munch. "Sex," he repeated through a mouthful of cornflakes. "Cause Flint reckons you and Lucian are having it."

It took everything in her power to keep from spitting her mouthful of coffee straight into Aaron's blissfully unaware face. Instead, she forced herself to painfully swallow before slamming the mug onto the table and muttering a curse under her breath. He knew?! Wait, scratch that, _how_ did he know?

"Did you say something?" The younger boy asked ignorantly with his spoon in his mouth. It was a sight she would have found cute had it not been for her new problematic predicament.

"N-no," she said, attempting to sound convincing about it. "I just remembered I had something to do," the champion stated, getting up and pushing in her metal chair. Aaron opened his mouth, ready to question her about said activity, but was interrupted when she added "Remember to wash the dishes when you're done," in true maternal fashion before walking briskly out of the room. A certain redhead was going to get it, she would make sure of that.

"…You're not my mom," the bug-type trainer muttered once she was out of earshot and frowning at the stack of dishes in the sink.

* * *

"Flint!" the blonde boomed indignantly. She had finally managed to find puffy-haired nuisance in their well-furnished living room, sprawled over the couch watching cartoons on the big screen with the ear-shattering volume of their expensive speaker system. Waste of electricity much? But at least unlike their previous encounter that morning, he had traded pajamas in for his usual blindingly yellow shirt.

"What's up?" he replied listlessly, not giving her a second glance as he continued to bask in the glow of the television. Cynthia huffed, hands on her hips as she made her way in-between Flint and the TV in order to get his full attention. "Hey, I'm watching here!" the redhead complained, dropping his feet onto the coffee table to sit straight forward in as if she had challenged his territory.

The alpha female, however, remained unfazed. "What have you been telling Aaron?" she demanded, picking up the remote before he could react and hitting the off button to prove that she was serious. The male cursed in protest, but she didn't back down, gripping the remote teasingly out of his grasp like it were stolen treasure.

"What's it to you anyway?" Flint retorted, crossing his arms in annoyance. "The kid needs me! How else is he going to learn how to pick up chicks?"

Cynthia rolled her eyes. He was as arrogant as ever. "Okay, let me rephrase that for you then. What have you been telling Aaron concerning _me and Lucian_," she seethed, watching in satisfaction as the redhead's original framed criminal look transformed into one of complete knowing.

"I," he began, suddenly finding it hard not to break a sweat. "Have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really now?" The league champ questioned, determined to break him. "Because this morning Aaron asked me what sex was over breakfast." She mentioned, pointing the remote at him threateningly like it was some sort of weapon.

"Well you know, it's about time someone's given him the talk," Flint laughed nervously, trying to shift to the far side of the sofa. "I'm surprised he even asked. Shouldn't boys his age already be well acquainted with the internet?"

"Guess not," she replied before promptly propping one heel on the coffee table separating them for leverage and staring at him accusingly. "He mentioned something else too, something that _really_ bothered me, concerning you," Cynthia continued, sneering in his face.

"And what might that be?" the redhead asked nervously, sealing his fate.

"Oh, just that you though that me and Lucian ARE HAVING SEX!" she nearly screeched, slamming her palm on the poor sheet metal surfaced table with a resounding smack. Flint looked as if he would have pissed himself had he not gone earlier. Cynthia was glaring daggers, running various methods of castration through her mind as Flint began to sweat bullets. The idea of dipping them in gold and giving them to her grandmother as earrings might be appropriate…

"Ah! But am I wrong in that assumption?!" the flame-type trainer suddenly interjected loudly, getting on his feet to challenge her. Cynthia stood awe-struck for a moment, not having expected that result. Her mouth hung open like that of a fish as she floundered for something to say. Flint on the other had seemed pleased with her reaction, flashing a cocky grin in her direction. "So I was right!"

"Nonsense!" she yelled. A flush crept onto her cheeks in a mixture of rage and embarrassment. "For one, that is none of your business!"

"Really?" He asked, obviously doubtful. "When my colleague hooks up with the former love of my life, it's none of my business?!" he replied bitterly, gritting his teeth. Cynthia looked at him as if he were crazy.

"What are you talking about? I don't ever recall dating you," she clarified, not knowing where he was going with this.

"Yeah, because you shot me down," he said in a surprisingly soft voice before laughing in spite of himself and sinking back down to the cushions of the couch. The champion opened her mouth to sharply retort when it finally hit her. Her eyes widened in disgust and horror as she watched the male sulk into a heartbroken sadness.

"Oh, Arceus…" she let out, rubbing one of her temples in frustration. "Flint, you've had how many girlfriends since you were first admitted into the league? I don't see why a petty crush on me would-"

"What do you know?!" he interrupted her bitterly, which only caused the vein in the blonde's forehead to throb even more. "Sure, it was a while ago, and sure, there are other girls," he began, tone beginning to show hints of aggressiveness. "But do you know how hard it was to get over you? I see your beautiful face every damn day!"

At this point, Cynthia was unsure if she should take it as a compliment, finding it difficult to keep from contorting her face into one that conveyed obvious disgust. "Flint, I believe you can sto-"

"And yeah, eventually I did get over you and categorized you as a friend, which is what you've been to me, and I'm thankful for that," he continued, ignoring her protests and bringing a fist to his heart in anguish. "But when I found out you were seeing Lucian, it just pissed me off! What's he got that I don't, huh?!" he demanded, eyes holding a fiery determination that made her grimace in annoyance.

"You have no proof of that," she pointed out, hoping to avoid any more obscure confessions of love from her afro-sporting acquaintance.

"Oh, but I do!" he declared malevolently before fiddling with something behind his back. "That bastard…I went to go get the phone charger he borrowed and what do I find in-between the outlet and the headboard?!"

And then, conjured up before her very eyes, was her favorite bra which she had thought to have been in the wash hanging listlessly from Flint's fingers. The object was black, like the majority of her clothing, with lace provocatively fraying from the cups and a gold heart charm hanging from the center. Her jaw dropped in defilement when he began to twirl the undergarment around tauntingly in order to prove his point. "Give it back!" she demanded with a banshee-like cry, face now deep crimson as her hands attempted to grasp the object.

"So you admit it's yours!" Flint countered, using his height as an advantage and making it just out of reach for the female. "You did sleep with him!"

"I-" the blonde began, but found no words appropriate enough to back her up. Flint continued to stare her down, awaiting an answer. "Fine! I did, okay!" she hissed, baring her teeth in poison-laced aggression and launching herself at him again in order to retrieve her garment. She brawled with him on the couch, clawing for her bra as he tried to pry her off. "But you don't have to tell the entire world about it!" She let out in-between attempted punches.

"With the amount of noise you make, dear, I'm surprised the rest of us are even able to sleep at night."

The addition of a third voice abruptly stopped their rumble. Unfortunately, Flint had somehow managed to fling the piece of underwear across the room in the confusion as Cynthia pressed her thumbs into his jugular. Her eyes left the redhead, trailing the lacy garment as it sailed towards the doorway and landed…

Right on Bertha's head.

"Oh Arceus, just kill me now," she prayed in disbelief, releasing her grip on poor Flint's neck and getting up in order to assess what the hell just happened. So Flint had her underwear and she had wanted it back, that seemed understandable enough. But somehow said underwear had ended up on Bertha's head? Right. It was truly a marvel how she hadn't just started bleeding from the eye sockets in mortification, but that probably had something to do with the stern look the older woman was giving the two of them. Bertha's icy glare was enough to render anyone motionless.

The grey-haired woman peeled the bra off her crown, analyzing it for a moment before frowning in disapproval. "Never thought you were the type, Cynthia," she said with an indifferent tone before tossing the object onto the coffee table. Cynthia gulped, knowing full well that behind Bertha's hazel eyes, she was being severely judged.

"Bertha, I am so-" Flint began, taking it upon himself to apologize since he had technically thrown the object. He stood, brushing himself off before scratching at his massive expanse of hair sheepishly.

"Sorry!" Cynthia finished for him, giving the older woman an apologetic bow. Though she was champion of the Sinnoh league, her morals still required that she show respect towards her elders. Flint, taking a hint, lowered his head to bow as well. The profuse apology proved ineffective, however, as older woman's expression remained stoic.

"What is going on here?" A fourth voice asked from the other doorway, obviously having heard the commotion. Flint and Cynthia simultaneously lifted their gazes like buoys at the sound, amazed at the impeccably bad timing.

"Lucian!" Cynthia exclaimed, following their newest addition's confused gaze which was currently on…

Her bra. Which was still in broad daylight.

Why hadn't the ground opened up and swallowed her whole yet again?

The blonde grabbed the flimsy undergarment, quickly stashing it away in the confines of her coat and trying hard not to turn any redder. Her purple-haired significant other raised a brow, intrigued at the situation, but kept his mouth shut. Knowing him, he would probably ask her later when they got a bit more privacy and when she wasn't busy retrieving her undergarments from Flint.

"Huh? What's everyone doing in here?" A chipper voice called from behind Lucian. To the group's dismay, a curious-eyed Aaron then chose to pop his head out from behind Lucian, apparently having finished those dishes. "Are they going to watch cartoons with us, Flint?"

"Tch. Well now it's a party," Flint huffed, ignoring the boy's question and instead focusing on the glasses-sporting nuisance. The redhead put his hands behind his head in defeat before flopping back onto the couch, bobbing up and down as the cushions adjusted to his weight. He sent the psychic-type user a glare before propping his boots on the coffee table with a louder-than-necessary thud as if to signify that he was running the show here.

"Flint, feet off the table," Bertha told the already irked Elite Four member, shooting down his authority immediately. "Or should I say, feet off of Lucian and Cynthia's preferred love nest last week," she added with an all-knowing glint in her eyes. The mentioned couple gawked in mutual, exasperated mortification, Lucian dropping his book and Cynthia in speechless, horrified shock.

"TMI, old woman!" Flint nearly screeched, flaling his arms frantically in an attempt to get as far away from the diseased coffee table as possible. The redhead curled himself into a protective ball, looking as if he had been scarred for life.

"Love nest?" Aaron repeated, completely oblivious to whatever was going on and whatever _had_ gone on. "What's that?" He asked Lucian, tugging on the older male's magenta sleeve. "Does it have something to do with sex or whatever?"

"Who taught him that word?!" Bertha suddenly snapped, exuding disapproval to the other league members. No one answered, all trying to avoid the wrath of the ground-type user. Pretending to be preoccupied with an object in the room seemed to be the popular evasive choice at that particular moment.

"…So I take it that dinner tonight is cancelled?" Lucian directed to the blonde, giving her a weary glance which she returned. They were both obviously not in the mood anymore.

"I suppose so," she replied, her coffee-induced vitality now totally depleted. Ignoring the mess, she let out a heavy sigh, "I think I'm going to lie down, I'm suddenly feeling rather tired," she announced bluntly, ignoring the critical and curious gazes being sent her way.

'_So much for my day off,'_ she mused inwardly with a frown as she tried to block out the following explosion of chatter from the living room.

Indeed, Champion Cynthia was a woman on a schedule.

She just tended to get distracted sometimes.

* * *

Right, so I've totally proved to be mentally unstable, amirite? Well, hopefully it was amusing for you readers, since it was a riot to write. Reviews would be appreciated if you would be so kind :)


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